Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Laos and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Stereo Dub to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
ABC,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sister Nancy,
Letta Mbulu,
The Index,
June Days,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joy Division,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harmonia,
The Star Department,
the Slits,
Cameo,
Soft Machine,
Arab on Radar,
Mary Jane Girls,
Metal Thangz,
Audionom,
Country Joe & The Fish,
DJ Sneak,
Can,
Maurizio,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Golliwogs,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gun Club,
Rapeman,
Camouflage,
Brass Construction,
Gerry Rafferty,
Malaria!,
Technova,
Grauzone,
The Durutti Column,
Albert Ayler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Susan Cadogan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Country Teasers,
the Sonics,
John Cale,
The Cramps,
Davy DMX,
Outsiders,
The Sonics,
Marine Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
Darondo,
The Knickerbockers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
Grandmaster Flash,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bill Wells,
Theoretical Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Angels of Light,
Sam Rivers,
The Litter,
Scientists,
Symarip,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.